


404 Reservation Not Found

by tangentiallly



Category: A Series of Unfortunate Events - Lemony Snicket
Genre: Background Relationships, Gen, Implied Love Triangle, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2020-08-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:21:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26150305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tangentiallly/pseuds/tangentiallly
Summary: Georgina insisted she had booked a room at Hotel Denouement. Frank told her there were no such records to be found.
Relationships: Beatrice Baudelaire & Dewey Denouement, Georgina Orwell & Frank Denouement
Kudos: 5





	404 Reservation Not Found

**Author's Note:**

> disclaimer: I don't own ASOUE

It started as something relatively small. Insignificant. Perhaps worth a few snide remarks before it got resolved with money easily, but hardly worth a full blown argument, especially not from two usually relatively calm and stoic people.

“I’m afraid that we have no room reservations from you for today,” Frank said. “There are no available rooms left for the type of room you claimed to have reserved, but we have other options you could consider.” He gestured to pictures of different types of rooms.

Georgina ignored what he’s gesturing to, and smiled coolly. Her famous “ _you catch more flies with honey than vinegar_ ” smile. “Please check again. I’m certain I booked a pond facing studio for this exact date.”

Frank sighed internally at the request, fairly sure that he’s not mistaken and certainly didn’t need _Georgina Orwell_ , of all people, to tell him to double check his results from searching within the hotel system he knew so well. However, he’s a professional, so he smiled back frostily. “Please wait a second.”

He dutifully checked the records again, suppressing his annoyance at her demand, her fake polite tone barely masking her condescension underneath. He’d seen through people like her immediately, even if not everyone had. Even if _some people_ somehow found this coldly calculative optometrist who did everything with surgically precise malice _charming_.

“Sorry,” he said blandly. “I’m afraid there’s still nothing.”

She kept her smile, although it became a little sharper. “I spoke with you directly, do you not remember?”

“I take a lot of phone calls every day, so no, I don’t particularly remember, Ms. Orwell.”

“ _Dr._ Orwell,” she corrected with an arrogant drawl. He couldn’t believe Josephine - ever so careful and perceptive and didn’t like opening up to many people - liked hanging out with her. He could never understand that.

“Of course, _Dr_. Orwell,” Frank said, letting the sarcasm shown in his voice deliberately. “As I was saying, I can’t remember every phone call, that’s why we rely on a record system. Plus, it might not even be me you’ve spoken with. Perhaps it was my brother.”

“Well, the record system certainly isn’t very _reliable_ , is it?” Georgina asked archly. “Perhaps it could use some improvement.”

“Very kind advice, thank you,” Frank said coolly. “We will take that into consideration. However, we simply do not have any extra rooms of that room type tonight, and that’s a fact.”

“How disappointing,” Georgina commented languidly. “And here I thought your hotel bragged all about being _organized_. And I’ve heard that you, Frank Denouement, are a man of details and precision.” She sniffed in disdain. “Perhaps Josephine exaggerated your capabilities.”

Frank considered his attitude a professional one up until that point, but if this was the route she wanted to go down, if she wanted to deliberately provoke him, then he could afford to lose a little professionalism here. “If she ever exaggerated anything, I’m sure it’s about how she enjoyed your company.” He shot back.

Something flashed across her eyes. She regained her composure rather quickly and laughed sharply. “Funny, that. I don’t recall _me_ being the boring and dull one out of the two of us.”

“Well, that wouldn’t be the first time your memory has failed you, would it?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. And then, uncharacteristically impulsive, he added, “Don’t worry, I heard it’s a common thing as one gets older.” Although she was only a couple of years older than him, it was a bit of a low blow and he knew it. He’d heard rumors that this was a sore spot.

Georgina looked close to snarling. Had she been a less composed person, she probably would have, he thought. As it was, she regarded him coldly and laughed - not a polite laugh but an unpleasant one - “Ah, but weren’t you the one who claimed not to remember your phone calls minutes ago? Or have you forgotten that also? Perhaps you’re the one who should worry about aging and memory loss.”

“I get a lot of phone calls every day,” he replied evenly. “Comes with the job.”

“A job you’re terrible at, apparently, if you’re this disorganized,” she commented. He narrowed his eyes at her. _Nobody_ ever called him disorganized. It was a preposterous thought. “I suppose Josephine talks you up out of pity. She could have a rather soft spot for underdogs.”

He seethed. “Like when she befriended _you_?”

“Perhaps it might be hard for you to comprehend the concept of friendship, but she genuinely likes me,” she informed him rather smoothly. She paused, and smiled suddenly, twisting a knife in. “Although I suspect friendship might be a bit of an inaccurate way to describe her and me. At least, soon it will be.”

He gritted his teeth. “Get out.”

“Give me my room,” she said simply.

They glared at each other.

* * *

Underneath the lobby, at the library, Beatrice smirked in delight as she listened to a sugar bowl play out the conversation from above. She popped another piece of popcorn into her mouth. “Well, this is certainly an informative eavesdropping experience and confirmed that I am, as usual, right about everything.”

“Yes, you’ve said,” Dewey sighed. “You could be more sympathetic about my brother’s love life and the rivals he faces, though.”

“Dewey, if he just asks me for help - me, the organization’s most excellent matchmaker - I will help him in a heartbeat.” Beatrice tutted. “But he’s got to _ask_ for it. I demand some appreciation for my skills.”

“What if _I_ ask you for help?” Dewey asked.

“That’s very sweet of you, but I demand appreciation from him, considering he’s never been particularly appreciative of this in the past.”

He rolled his eyes. Then he continued to wonder if Georgina had really forgotten to make a reservation but thought she had, or had she been deliberately causing trouble, which Dewey supposed wasn’t impossible. He doubted Frank would make a mistake like that. He considered Frank professional enough to not just ignore her reservation without provocations from her first. Then suddenly something clicked.

“Beatrice,” he asked slowly. “Did _you_ delete Dr Orwell’s reservation?”

She grinned mischievously at him and winked.

“You did,” he muttered. “ _Beatrice_!”

“Popcorn, Dewey?” Beatrice smiled charmingly at him.

**Author's Note:**

> [come say hi on tumblr](https://beatricebidelaire.tumblr.com)


End file.
